Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1887-12-02
The Author of One Poem.

N. Y, last month, at the age of fifty
eight man who wrote one celebrated
poem, and, as far as the public know,
never did anything else that was remark
able. His death has not attracted as
much notice in the press as would that
of second-class variety show actress.
Indeed the first mention we have seen of
it is not in newspaper, but in the New
York Critic, literary Journal which
copies an article on the subject from the
local Bath paper The man was Judge
G. H. McMaster, and his one poem,
doubtless familiar to many readers of the
Sentinel, since it is included in many of
the current collections of verses, is as
follows:
CARMEN BELLIcoSUA.
In their ragged regimentals
Stood the old Continentals,
Yielding not,
While the grena1 erS were lungiug,
And like hail fell the plunging
Cannon shot;
When the files
OF the Isles,
From the smoky night encampment, bore the
banner of the rampant
Unicorn:
And grummer, grummer, grummer, rolled
the roll of the drummer,
Through the morn!
Then with eyes to the front, all,
And with guns horizontal,
Stood our sires;
While the balls whistled deadly,
And in streams flashing redly
Bla ed the fires;
AS the roar
On the shore
Swept the strong battle-breakers DER the
green sodded acres
OF the plain;
And louder, louder, louder, cracked the black
gunpowder.
Cracking amain!
Now like smiths at their FORCES
Worked the red st. Georges
Cannoneers; -
And the villainous saltpeter
Rang fierce, discordant meter
Round our ears;
AS the swift
Storm drift,
With hot sweeping anger, came the horse
guards clangor
On our fanks.
Then higher, higher, higher, burned the old.
fashioned fire
Through the ranksl
Then the bare headed Colonel
Galloped through the white Internal
| 1OWuer-ClOuQ,
And his broad sword was swinging,
And his brazen throat was ringing
Trumpet loui:
Then the blue
Bullets flew,
And the trooper jackets redden at the touch
of the leaden
Rifle breath:
And rounder, rounder, rounder roared the
iron six FOUNDER
Hurting death.
Of this poem Edmund Clarence Sted-
man wrote in the Galqgv Magazine, many
years ago: "There is nothing like it in
our language; it's the ringing character
istic utterance of an original man. There
is perfect blending Of sense to sound,
and of both to the spirit of the theme.
To include picture often ruins song
but here we have the knot of patriots
clustered upon battle hillside, the pow
der cracking again, the old-fashioned
Colonel galloping with drawn sword,
and as
Rounder, rounder, rounder roared the iron
slx-pounder,
Hurting death;
1t seem heavier piece of ordinance, and
charged with weightier issues than a
Whole park of artillery in a modern arma-
ment. This song will last with the
memory of revolutionary days" 1t was
written when the author was but twenty
years old and first appeared in the KnicE-
erbOcktr Mag1ziae for February, 1949,
under the signature "John McGrom. -
McMaster became q lawyer and at one
time was County Judge of Steuben
County. 1t is strange that man who at
twenty was capable of writing poem
SO original and striking that it was at
once recognized as masterpiece should
have never made further venture in
literature.